Enter The Pup
by Santai
Summary: Holmes has always been a cat person. Dogs have never seemed very interesting to him. But perhaps he can make the best of a bad situation. Watson you fool. One-shot movie-verse


**Hellooo this is just a one-shot I had floating around on my computer from a while ago so I've gone through and edited a little before posting on here. So I would love to know what you think. This is movie verse so I've taken liberties with a couple of things, please forgive me. Please review I will love you! xxxxx**

Holmes sat in his chair, tobacco smoke curling from his pipe. He held his paper open in front of him, glancing through the articles, trying to find something even vaguely interesting. As usual, there was nothing. He heard the door downstairs closed and smiled to himself, wondering whether Watson had brought him those fish and chips from the stall Holmes had not so subtly mentioned earlier. The sound of pattering feet that clearly did not belong to Watson drifted up the stairs and into his room slowly coming closer. Frowning, Holmes folded the corner of his paper down and watched the doorway suspiciously. It wasn't long before a small wrinkled creature came bounding in, burying its nose into the floor and scurrying around. Holmes frowned as it seemed to notice the detective watching him and sat down, staring up at him unblinkingly.

Holmes fidgeted in his seat and took his pipe from his mouth, "Watson. Watson!"

"Yes, Holmes?" Watson's voice called from down the stairs.

Holmes narrowed his eyes are the dog, "Why is it staring at me?" Holmes kept his eyes fixed on it.

Watson's footsteps headed up the stairs, "It's just a puppy, Holmes," he said, exasperated as he entered.

Holmes finally looked away from the dog to fix Watson with a stern look, "Yes, thank you, I know exactly what it is. My question was not one of its species but of its intentions. It's still staring at me."

Watson dropped his hat on the table and bent to pick up the puppy, who wagged its short tail in response, "He, Holmes, not it. His name is Gladstone."

"Did it follow you home?" he asked, slightly annoyed, laying the newspaper to one side.

"No, I did tell you I kept a bull pup," he replied, "He can keep you company while you sit in here between cases."

"But that's what you were to be for."

Watson rolled his eyes, "I am a practicing doctor, Holmes. I can't be in here at all times."

The dog yapped and Holmes flinched, "What was that?"

Watson rolled his eyes and set the dog on the floor, "That was a bark, Holmes. Have you never had a dog before?"

Holmes sniffed as though the idea was preposterous, "I can't say I have. I'm far more of a cat person," he replied as he leant back in the chair with his feet up and eyed the dog with half closed eyes.

"Yes, Holmes," Watson muttered, "In more ways than one," he sighed.

There was a clang somewhere in the room, followed by a yap. Holmes sat up violently. The puppy was sniffing around the end of the room, close to a precariously balanced scientific instrument. Holmes' eyes went wide.

"No! Dog!" he shouted as scrabbled from the sofa and dived across the room, only to trip and fall as the instrument smashed onto the floor.

Holmes winced into the carpet. The puppy stood staring fearfully at the fallen instrument, approaching it cautiously. Glaring, Holmes got to his hands and knees, crawled to the dog and plucked it from the floor by the scruff of its neck and held it at arm's length and glared at it. It stared back with its tongue hanging out and tail wagging, completely oblivious to the hatred the detective was trying to convey.

"Watson," he said as he turned and held the dog out to him, "I don't think it is a good idea for it to live here. It's as much of a danger to itself as it is to me."

Watson raised an eyebrow as he took the puppy, "It's too late now, Holmes, Gladstone stays," he said, once again putting the puppy down.

Holmes grumbled to himself as he made his way to one of his cupboards and searched inside it, "If you insist on letting a dog run amok in my room -"

"I thought this was our room."

He ignored the comment, "Then would you mind taking a seat and letting me note the effects of this compound," Holmes said as he plucked a glass bottle from the shelf.

The doctor sighed, "As much as I would love to once again become your test subject but I have an appointment with a patient and it wouldn't do to be unconscious," he plucked his hat from the side, "I shall be back in a couple of hours." The door shut behind him.

Holmes frowned at the door, then down at the dog that was staring back up at him. After a moment, a thought flashed across his mind. He looked at the bottle, then looked at the dog. With a grin, he crouched beside the dog and patted its head awkwardly.

Smiling innocently, he muttered, "Would you mind doing me a favour?"


End file.
